Happy Mother's Day

Some dear old friends pounced on me last week finding merit in the Catholic Church, which has treated me exceptionally well despite their public baggage, now and well established for centuries.  They steadfastly oppose abortion, at least in America, though with expedient lower profiles elsewhere as their adherence shrinks here.  Even that iconic saint Mother Teresa caused some harm in India by including her Church's dogma on reproductive function while the poorest of the poor who may not have had much more pleasure available to them than their sexual gratification, got avoidable burdensome pregnancies and infectious diseases while she denied them contraceptives and infection control.  But she had her element of merit for the things she did, as did my many Catholic associates in diverse cities where I have lived.  These personable ladies, yes 100% ladies, collective scorn was for getting dealt a different chromosomal lottery outcome, one that denied me the ability to carry pregnancy, though essential to create pregnancy.  My absence of those parts apparently in the minds of dear people disqualified me from having the sensitivity that they demanded.  

As we get to Mother's Day, the universal reverence for those who reared us, the respect earned by our mostly female teachers, our daughters grown up, those nurses who didn't have full opportunity in my childhood era whose daughters have become the doctors who take care of me today, some with my input in their educational support is unshakable.  We can choose sides over the contentious issues which have arced towards better equality over time, but just as those old friends who would never have been that hostile in person want their due, the pot shots at me for my genetic destiny seem equally unwarranted, probably even factually wrong in an era where reality does not carry the respect it once did.

As empty nesters, the kids can call when they get around to it.  I make a pretty good surrogate.  Card, small gift, nice dinner with insufficient deserved complements.  Yes, people like me can appreciate reproductive dimorphism in its most generous way.  And not just on a designated Mother's Day.